


Warmth and Light

by carolej126



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4042612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas time at the firehouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth and Light

"Merry Christmas!"

I nod my thanks and cheerfully echo the cab driver's words as he pulls away from the curb with a squeal of rubber. Heading for the building that serves as both headquarters and home, I have to laugh. At myself, that is. I just wished someone Merry Christmas. Me, Mr. 'Christmas is just another day'. Quite a turnaround, I'll admit. But here I am, with a bounce in my step and a smile on my lips. Go figure. Actually, I don't have to. I know exactly why I'm looking forward to it. The three reasons are right upstairs.

Carefully balancing my armful of large packages, I push the door closed behind me. Evidence of the Christmas season is in short supply down here on the first level of our renovated fire house. Now, Janine does have a few holiday cards displayed on her desktop, and there's probably a sprig of mistletoe tucked away in a drawer awaiting an unwary physicist, but that's it. Our tree, resplendent with warmth and light, along with a multitude of presents, is on the next floor.

With Janine out of town, I take advantage of her absence, setting my burden down before inspecting the mail that has been left on top of the desk. Quickly sorting through each piece, I create two separate piles. Mail for myself and the guys goes to one side, while mail addressed to Janine or the business is placed in another. That leaves the mail marked 'occupant'. Trash can? Nah. I'll save it for Janine. I'm sure she'll appreciate my thoughtfulness.

Ready to head upstairs, both to deposit my presents under the tree and play mailman, I pick up my packages. Oops, forgot the mail. It only takes a few attempts at carrying both before I realize there's no way I'll be able to carry everything without assistance. Hey, they didn't give a PhD to this boy for nothing.

"Yo! Anybody home?" Hearing the voice of one of my fellow Ghostbusters on the next level, I add, "Winston? You wanna give me a hand?"

A few seconds later, Winston descends the staircase, the black man looking surprised. "Hey, Pete. I didn't hear you come in. Ray was-"

Ray was what? I immediately think the worst, fearing my young friend's bad cold had turned into something far more serious while I was gone. Pneumonia. Bronchitis. One of those other 'itis' words. I dart an almost frantic glance toward the stairs. "Is he okay?"

Winston quickly waves off my concern. "Yeah, Ray's fine. He's upstairs resting."

At his words, I breathe a sigh of relief and my stampeding heart begins to slow down.

"What is all that stuff?"

Glancing down at my packages, a grin crosses my face as I confess, "Presents."

When Winston's eyebrows go up, I know I'm in for a bit of teasing. "You went shopping? On Christmas Eve?"

"Yep."

"Man." Winston shakes his head. "It must have been like a zoo out there."

"That's half the fun. The crowds, the traffic jams, the noise, the hustle, the bustle-"

"The helpful saleswomen?" Winston cuts in.

"Doesn't hurt," I laugh.

Winston nudges me with his elbow, a knowing grin on his face. "You know what I think?"

"Zed, I'm afraid to ask."

"I think someone has discovered that Christmas can be fun after all."

I almost shrug off his comment, then decide to admit it. What can it hurt? "Yeah."

"I'm glad."

And he really is. He knows how hard it's been for me, dealing with the ghosts of Christmas past.

"You need some help with that stuff?"

I'm drawn back to the present by his question. Gesturing toward the desktop with my chin, I ask, "Can you carry up the mail?"

"Yeah. Sure." Winston willingly scoops up the pile of mail and leads the way to the stairs.

Heading for the tree as I reach the second floor, the wrapped gifts are deposited underneath its branches before I flop down next to Ray.

Stanz is resting on the couch, a soft blue blanket draped over his legs. His eyes brighten as I join him and he sits up a little, pulling the blanket with him. I automatically reach over to tuck several pillows behind his back.

"Thanks, Peter."

"No problem, buddy. How are you feeling?" He looks a little better than he did yesterday, that's for sure. I unobtrusively check Ray's temperature under the guise of affectionately ruffling his hair.

"My cold's almost gone. I bet I could even go on a bust."

"Uh, uh, uh." That little speech would have been a lot more effective without the cough after every other word. He's not going anywhere, unless it's his bed. Well, okay, or the bathroom. "No busts for you until you can lift something heavier than Mr. Stay Puft without coughing."

"Got that right," Winston agrees sternly. "You'll be one hundred percent soon enough."

"Peter is correct. We will not take any unconscionable chances with your health."

Unconscionable. There's only one person in this building who would use that word and it's not me. Egon has joined the party. Good. Now it's three against one. "You're outvoted, buddy."

"Yeah, okay."

When Ray heaves a small sigh, I have to steel myself. I know he's tired of sitting around, but I'm not giving in on this one.

Winston comes to the rescue just in time, dropping the mail on the coffee table.

"Wow! More mail?" Ray asks in excitement, his disappointment forgotten.

"Yep." I pass out the mail, dropping Ray's portion into his blanket-clad lap and delivering Winston's and Egon's into waiting hands. Holiday cards addressed to all of us are divided equally.

"Got enough cards, there, Pete?" Winston asks, plopping down on the couch beside Ray. He moves over slightly when Egon joins him.

I assume a smug look that's been perfected over time. "I can't help it if I'm popular." Fingering through my cards, I recite, "Paula, Sylvia, Denise, Professor Thompson..." I stop to lift the next envelope to my nose. "Ahhhh."

Egon looks up from his mail. "Professor Thompson?" he repeats in a puzzled tone, no doubt picturing the balding, middle-aged man.

"No, Jennifer," I laugh. Just to bug him, I draw a shapely figure in the air, adding, "You remember her."

"Humph." Egon shakes his head at the slightly lecherous smirk on my face. Another look I've perfected.

We spend a few minutes examining our holiday cards, smiling over the expressed well-wishes from friends and family.

"Wow, look at this!" Ray is holding a card in the air almost triumphantly. "It's from Mr. Davidson. I guess he appreciated our services after all."

"That would be surprising," Egon responds, "knowing at least two valuable vases were destroyed during that bust."

"That wasn't my fault," I say immediately. I'm not taking the heat for that one.

Ray wears a sheepish grin. "Uh, that was sorta my fault."

Winston snorts his amusement. "Yeah, he was distracted."

"It could have happened to anyone," Ray interjects.

Uh, huh. "Sure, anyone would have been jumping up and down, screaming 'wow, look at those readings' in the middle of a bust. With a class six, no less."

Turning a little redder, Ray mumbles, "Well, those readings were pretty neat."

Well, actually they were. In fact, I'm surprised Egon wasn't doing the same thing. Without the jumping and screaming, of course. His style is more of a calm, quiet, restrained 'Hmmm'. That would probably be his response to the end of the world, too, with a 'This is very bad' thrown in for good measure. "Sure they were." I throw a companionable arm around Ray's shoulders. "But next time, warn us before you start playing storm trooper. I'd like to have a chance to duck."

Oops. Bad choice of words. Ray's face brightens at the mention of one of his favorite movies. "I will. Hey, do you guys want to watch-"

"No!" our three voices sound as one.

Ray only looks crushed for a second, since he's seen the movie at least twenty times, but I make a preemptive strike, knowing he'll ask again and we won't be able to resist. I bolt from my seat and throw myself headlong under the tree. An athlete would have garnered at least a 9.9 in the Olympic games for that move. Unfortunately, I'm not an athlete. I'm in good shape, but that hurt.

"Peter, what are you doing?"

Rhetorical question. Egon knows exactly what I'm doing. "Checking out my presents."

"Peter." I can almost hear the 'tsk, tsk, tsk'.

"Come on, Spengs. You mean you never wanted to know what your presents were ahead of time? Never snooped through your parent's closets looking for your gifts?" Egon is still gazing at me with a look of disbelief so I go for the big finish. "Never unwrapped a gift and then wrapped it back up again so no one would be the wiser?"

"Hardly," was Egon's response.

"You weren't in the least bit curious?" Somehow I manage a tone between incredulity and outrage as I stare at the physicist.

A smile teases at the corner of Egon's mouth. "Of course not."

"Yeah, right," Winston laughs. I just roll my eyes.

"Really, Egon?" Ray asks. "I always shook all my presents. I even figured some of them out. I tried to act surprised on Christmas morning, but I think my mom always knew. What about you, Winston?"

Winston nods. "Hey, I admit to poking around my house, looking for presents, but my folks were always really good at hiding everything. Never did figure out where they stashed it all. Probably at a cousin's house."

Adding insult to injury, I lift another gift to my ear and shake it gently. Yep, there's Egon's disapproving look. I don't even have to turn around to see it. I can feel it. "Hey, it's almost time to open them anyway." It really is. With everyone headed off to visit family and friends in the morning, we'd decided to open our gifts on Christmas Eve this year.

Ray bounces a little in his seat. "What time is it?"

I make a big production out of checking my watch. Gotta love that dramatic flair. I should have been an actor. "Six-thirty-three."

"Hey, it is time!" Ray exclaims eagerly.

"Time for presents," Winston concurs. "Who wants to pass them out?"

Winston's words are barely out of his mouth before I grab the closest present. It's not mine, so I reach for the next one. It's not mine, either, but it is Ray's. Hmmm. I guess I should let the kid go first. "Here you go, Tex."

Ray excitedly begins to tear off the wrapping paper and then he pauses, staring down at the gift in his hands.

"What's wrong, Raymond?"

My words don't just overlap Egon's, they barrel right over them. "You okay, Ray?"

Ray looks around at us. "I was just thinking."

"Sounds pretty dangerous," I joke.

"Thinking about what?" Winston encourages.

A light blush spreads across Ray's face and he smiles gently. "I'm just glad we're all here, safe and sound, celebrating Christmas together."

"Got that right, homeboy."

He is right. With the stuff we've faced this year, it's a miracle anyone of us are still in one piece.

As Egon nods, his blue eyes twinkling, I look around at my family. Our Christmas tree isn't the only thing resplendent with warmth and light in this room. "Merry Christmas, everyone," I get out over the sudden lump in my throat.

"Merry Christmas," is the quick response from around the room.

Uh, oh. From the look on Ray's face, there's a group hug coming if I don't act quick. Too late. The redhead leans over to pull me close before he tugs Egon and Winston in. Feels pretty good, actually.

We hold on tight, enjoying the moment, then slowly break apart as I complain, "Okay, okay, enough mushy stuff." I don't make any attempt to hide the wide smile that belies my words.

As Egon straightens Ray's blanket and Winston fusses with his pillows, I ask, "Need anything else, Tex?"

Ray shakes his head. "Nope, I've got everything that I need."

You know what? So do I. "Let's open presents!"

 

~end~


End file.
